


Valuables on You at All Times

by underscoredom



Series: Wallet Series [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Gen, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underscoredom/pseuds/underscoredom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not so easy to balance your life around three women.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valuables on You at All Times

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, in the form of hugs and kisses, to dear_monday. Thank you for holding my hand across continents and telling me that this story has potential and should be finished.
> 
> Lyrics are from I Fought the Law.

**i. Family Portrait**

"Honey, I'm home!" he shouted as he closed and locked the door behind him. Upstairs, he heard a high-pitched squeal, and what sounded like the bathroom door opening, before a lower voice spoke. It was muted, of course, but he could already see his daughter's delight, at having him home early enough for Bed Time, as well as his wife's amused exasperation, at having to tell their daughter not to run downstairs without finishing her bath.

He shrugged off his coat and hung it on the coat rack. He walked into the living room to dump his keys into a glass bowl, and headed to the kitchen for a can of beer.

Oh thank god, they still had some left. Gratefully, he reached out to grab a can and pressed it against his forehead, letting it cool him. Just as he was about to open the tab, he heard the sound of feet running down the stairs.

"Daaaaaddy!"

"I'm in the kitchen, pumpkin."

The beer was placed back in the fridge. When Katie found him, her eyes brightened up. He held out his hands and she ran to his outstretched embrace. She knocked into him, flinging her arms around his waist. He staggered a bit at her onslaught.

"Oof! Hey little girl, did you grow while I was out?" he kidded, ruffling her damp hair.

"Nooooo," she said in between giggles. "You're growing short! Like Alice!" Last weekend, they had gone to her cousin's seventh birthday and the theme had been Alice in Wonderland. Having never seen the movie, of course, his daughter was enthralled and had been requesting to see it ever since.

He pretended to measure his height using the fridge. "Oh, you know what? Think I am. I'm going to have to drink some potion." Katie’s giggles grew to shrieking laughter when he scooped her up and twirled her around the kitchen, and to the stairs.

"But first, bed," he said solemnly. She pouted.

"But whhhhhy?" she whined. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he climbed the stairs.

"Cause, pumpkin, I might take the wrong potion and end up growing bigger and bigger. You wouldn't want to be squished by daddy's hands, would you?" Katie was slipping, so he adjusted her position when they had reached the top. He headed to her room. The room was dimly lit, the night lamp casting a glow all over the room. Standing by his little girl's bed was Jackie, fluffing a pillow before setting it back on the bed.

"Mum, dad's shrinking," Katie announced. Jackie turned to give them both a grin. She leaned in close and whispered in their daughter's ear, although it was loud enough for him to hear it as well.

"Excellent. I can keep dad in my pocket and he'll never have to leave for work." It was spoken with a purpose of conspiracy. Katie grinned back. He set her carefully on the bed before turning to Jackie.

"Hello darling," she greeted, her grin melting into a soft smile. "You're home early."

"I know. Great isn't it?" he replied and placed a kiss on her lips. He felt the flutter of her eyelashes as she closed her eyes.

"Eeew!"

They broke apart laughing. He shook a finger at his daughter, who was pretending to retch.

"Now, Katie. One day, you won't be finding this gross." When she shook her head, he added, "Are you jealous of mum? Are you looking for a kiss as well?"

He puckered his lips, laughing as Katie dodged him, hiding in her blanket. She peeked out to catch him about to jump at her, fingers wiggling to tickle.

"I'll tuck her in," he told Jackie. "You get ready for bed."

Jackie gave him a look of gratitude. "All right. Night Katie," she said. He leaned back long enough for Jackie to place a kiss on Katie's forehead. Katie scrunched her nose, but looked pleased nonetheless. "Sweet dreams."

\--

Finally, finally, he was able to get Katie to drift off into slumber. He decided to skip the beer tonight and, instead, headed to the bedroom. Jackie was already bundled up on her side of the bed. Her hair was in a careless ponytail, with slivers of brown hair falling over her glasses. The lamp bathed her in light, making her look softer. When he came in, she looked up and bookmarked the page she was on.

"I would have thought she'd wait until morning to give you that," she said. She tilted her head to indicate that she was referring to the paper he held in his hand. It was a family portrait, apparently: a picnic in the park with a family of squiggles, who had packed a squiggle of food. He exclaimed it to be a masterpiece though. Already, he was reaching for his wallet to put it into. He folded the paper so that, when placed inside, the Jackie and Katie squiggles were seen.

"I just had to have it," he explained. "She managed to capture the slenderness you had before we got married." Well, sort of. Katie had drawn her mum as a thin line of blue because, in the picture, she was wearing that blue Christmas dress that Katie liked.

"Very amusing," Jackie said. He climbed into bed and gave her another kiss, this time proper and less child-appropriate. When she pulled away, he rested his head on her shoulder. She opened her book; the bookmark she was using was another family portrait by Katie.

"This one, according to her, is us at the beach," she said. Yes, he could vaguely see that, given that she had drawn them all with tanned skin.

"Maybe we should go to a beach," he murmured and closed his eyes. He opened his eyes and turned to see Jackie looking at him with guarded eyes.

"We should," she agreed. "We're only waiting for you."

He winced and tried not to feel guilty about his late hours and erratic schedule. He did owe his family more of his time. Given how it took him so long to put Katie to sleep, it was evident she missed time spent with him.

"We'll take a holiday," he promised, reaching out his hand and giving Jackie's a firm squeeze.

"It'll be fun and we'll be as tan as Katie predicted we’d be," he added with a nod at her daughter's portrait. With his other hand, he showed her the portrait that he had stuck into his wallet. "Then we'll have a picnic and you'll be beautiful."

 **ii. Wedding Ring**

After he delivered the results from the Sholto case to Greg, he decided a quick detour to Sally’s desk wouldn’t hurt.

"'Lo, Sally," he greeted. She looked up from her computer to offer him a smile. "Haven't seen you in a while."

He held his breath and silently counted the passing seconds. Sally's reply was going to either make or break his evening. Katie was at a sleepover tonight so it would just be him and Jackie back in their house, and he wasn't feeling up for that. Lately, silence had filled up their house. Somewhere in time, some metaphorical chasm had opened, leaving them on opposite sides.

(He refused to close his eyes in anticipation for Sally’s answer, because he knew it would take him back to thoughts of home. A home, which had become a house. A house where late night kisses were traded, like transactions, on the cheeks; like an obligation, on the lips. He refused to close his eyes because Sally was a surprising bundle of energy, all snark and flirting smirks, while Jackie only gave him gazes set far away.)

"I haven't seen you in a while either," Sally replied. She rested her chin against tented fingers. In a lower tone, she asked, "Dinner tonight?"

He took a quick glance around them. Greg pretended that he was reading up on something or other. He could see his eyes flitting in their direction through the glass confines of his office, but it was not like he could prove anything.

"Yeah, that'd be great," he breathed. "Same time and place? I'll be off by seven."

"Good. I'll see you there." Her friendly smile shifted into something wicked and promising. God, how he lasted weeks without this was beyond him. He looked around once more, but Greg was now facing away from them. He swooped in and gave her a quick peck; added a little bit of tongue that had her leaning forward when he moved back.

"Nice chatting with you," he said and turned to leave. He was already whipping out his mobile to text Jackie: _sorry, honey. a mate's back in town, going out for drinks. won't be home til later than usual._

\---

He slipped out of the building. He had an hour to kill before their set time and he wondered if he should buy her something tonight.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Greg’s presence beside him startled him. The DI was also in an overcoat; both of them had their hands stuffed into their pockets. They walked down Broadway together, avoiding others on the street.

"Got an old uni buddy who's in town. Trying to decide where I'm taking him tonight." He realized that the more he told people the same lie, the less Jackie would find out. In his pocket, he was toying with his wedding ring, fidgeting with it and wanting to take it off before he meets up with Sally.

He doesn't like how she flinches every time she sees it. It's nothing obvious or exaggerated, just a quick frown, but it serves as a reminder that it is there, and what it implies.

In the mean time, Greg was looking at him as if he doesn't know what to do with him. He has that look that he's taken to giving that bloke, _what'shisname?_ , Holmes. It was a certain blend of wariness and trust, although in his case, it leaned towards the former.  Inside work hours, Greg saw him as Anderson, forensics team, sniffer dog. Outside, dammit, Greg cared too much for the affairs of his people. It used to be strangely comforting; now, it was unnerving.  He could still see the piercing gaze that had been directed at them earlier.

"Have I got something on my face?" he asked, in an attempt to hide his jitters. It was enough to make Greg realize that he had been staring. He shook his head and looked away. They both kept their mouths shut until they reached the end of the street. When they do, he opened his mouth to say goodbye but Greg hadn’t finished with him just yet. He reached out and firmly grasped him by the sleeve.

"Look, I just want to-- Jacqueline is a lovely lady."

"I know. I married her, remember?"

When Greg didn't reply, he jokingly added, "Why? Are you asking for permission to have an affair with her?"

Greg bristled. He was a family man, after all; of course he wouldn't like that. However, instead of berating him, he merely squeezed his shoulder.

"I'm just saying, in case-- anyway, have fun with your friend. Make sure your _friend_ gets home safe." He let go and stuffed that hand back in his pocket. "I'll see you on Monday.”

He watched him leave, just to make sure Greg wouldn’t turn back, before he turned in the opposite direction. In his pocket, he slipped off his ring and curled his fingers around it. Then, he reached for his wallet and dropped it in amongst the bills.

God, just for this evening and that'll be that. Then he'll start working on making Jackie come back to him.

He replaced his wallet in his inner coat pocket. Strangely, he felt tired, and decided to take a cab, even if walking would have sufficed. Lying has become easy for him, and so has taking off his ring. However, he realized that, as he raised an arm to hail a cab, he couldn't shake the heavy weight of the ring residing in his wallet, instead of his finger.

 **iii. Condom**

He pulled up in front of the movie theater. Frankly, he was irked, and it showed when he blasted two short honks to signal Katie. Frankly, he wanted to shoot Sherlock bloody Holmes between his eyes or pour sulphuric acid down his throat. Arrogant ass.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. When he opened them, Katie was peering in the window, a small frown of concern etched on her face. He shook his head and reached out to unlock the door.

"Bye!" she yelled back to her friends, classmates from her History class, giving them a final wave as she slipped into the car beside him. She placed his overcoat, which had been on the seat, on her lap.  Katie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he pulled back to the road.

Quickly, he pushed all thoughts of Sherlock goddamn Holmes from his mind, pushed away Greg's fucking trust in an unprofessional, rather than in him. What was he paid for? To stand around, be wrong in the presence of an ex-junkie? Sherlock Holmes thought he could hide that from everyone, but he's handled too many cases to not recognize the signs. He growled, clenching the steering wheel. Beside him, Katie flinched.

He coughed and counted to ten.

"How was the movie?" he asked, voice still a little gruff, but it sounded genuinely curious and was absent of any bite, which was good.

"It was nice. They could have used someone instead of Brad Pitt though," she answered with a shrug. He thought she’d leave it at that but, of course, she didn't.  "Work problems?" she countered. He hesitated; wondered if he could share this with her tonight.

"Yeah," he huffed out.

"Sherlock Holmes?"

"One and only."

Katie winced in sympathy. While she admitted that the man sounded like a genius, he's glad that she stood by him in that Holmes should stop forcing crime scenes to be his bloody business.

(And not just crime scenes! He knew Sally cancelled tonight's meet up because of Holmes.)

The silence that followed was unnerving. His fingers fiddled with the radio. Katie switched it to a lesser-known station. The Clash blasted through years old speakers; Katie bopped her head to the music, while he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel with the beat. In the overview mirror, they caught each other's eyes as the song climaxed to the chorus—

"I fought the war and the war won! I fought the war and the war won!" they both yelled. Katie tapped along the dashboard. He shook his head and wondered how his daughter knew how to make him feel better, each and every time.

"Dad," her voice cut through his thoughts. He glanced at her but she wasn't looking at him. She was grinning, though, and eyeing a McDonald's that they're approaching.  "Let's pass by the drive thru."

(When she was younger, Katie had always insisted that happy meals made people… well, happy. She'd insist on dining in McDonald's when her parents had been in a tiff, ordering a happy meal and sharing the free toy with them. It worked in some ways; after all, they hadn't wanted Katie to see them bickering.)

They didn't buy happy meals anymore, but McDonalds still held some semblance of comfort. He turned into the drive thru, not having the heart to tell Katie that, these days, it took alcohol rather than food to forget about Holmes and work. He pulled up, ordered and was told to drive forward to get their food.

"Hand me a fifty?" he asked. "My wallet's in the inner pocket of the coat."

When he turned to Katie to get the bill, he saw her face— she looked different. Gone was her grin. Gone, in fact, was her ease. She looked at him with indifference; a calculated coldness, or unmeasured shock, he couldn't quite pinpoint it. Perhaps a mixture of the three. Frantically, he tried to remember if he had said anything offensive.

"Have a pleasant evening," the cashier said, with a practiced smile, as he got their food. He smiled back, quick and tight lipped. He didn't tell her that he certainly hoped so, although he did think it.

"Here, Katie." He handed her a sundae and fries. She accepted it, but again, there was that air of distance.

It hit him when they whizzed by a convenience store. Damn. Damn. He had bought it for tonight, before Sally canceled on him. Shit! Why didn't he think of taking the condom out?

\---

Katie didn't wait for him, didn't even wait until he had stopped the car. As soon as he slowed down to park the car, she jumped out, shutting the door with a loud slam. He was alone, save for the radio, as well as the echo of the slam, of her anger. He wondered how much she thought she knew by discovering it.

Her food, which had remained untouched, was placed on the passenger seat.

He finished parking his car despite wanting to go after her. He steeled himself as he imagined Katie telling Jackie about her discovery, her suspicions. He walked up to the front door, gripped the knob firmly and opened.

Silence. Upstairs, he heard the sound of a door slamming. Katie's bedroom. To his left, he saw Jackie flipping through the television, legs crossed. He wondered if this was some facade, a strange prelude to their war.

"Darling," he greeted. She looked up and smiled twice; one for when she looked back at him and another when he kissed her cheek.

"Is something wrong with Katie?" she asked, before settling on a late telecast of the news. He shrugged, not wanting to look at his wife when he doesn't know if Katie has breathed a word or not. Could not even look at the television, which was delivering the latest input Holmes had given earlier.

"What did she do?" he asked back.

"She threw her arms around me. She told me she was fine but I felt her hands shaking. She even told me she loves me." He exhaled. All right, so far so good. Now he just needed to talk to Katie.

"I think it might have been the movie," he replied. "I'll go talk to her, yeah?" She merely hummed, her attention already drawn away from him. He got up with a sigh. Slowly, he trudged up the stairs.

"Pumpkin, open the door. It's dad," he coaxed. It didn't work, of course, so he attempted another direction.

"That— it doesn't mean anything. I did buy it, but nothing happened, I didn't intend—" Ah, but what hadn't he intended? To be found out?

He raised his hand to knock again but Katie beat him to it. She opened the door. Her hand, he saw, was trembling on the doorknob, tears threatening to fall.

"Oh, pumpkin--" he immediately moved to embrace her, but she jerked back

"Tell me," she said, defiance and a simmer of anger in her voice. "That _that_ was the first and the only bloody time." He has seen her direct anger at someone down the phone line, but never at him. She looked at him as if he wasn't worthy of her attention, as if he had done the worst thing (the absolute worst).

Despite that, he found himself unable to lie to her, to say anything that could have appeased her anger.

She interpreted his silence for what it was. Her tears finally fell, cupping her cheeks with small comfort.

"Fuck you," she spat at him and slammed the door in his face.

He was at a loss for words, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides. He leaned back against the door and slid down to the floor. Damn. Damn. He wanted to sit there; prolong tomorrow for as long as he could.

Downstairs, Jackie sat, remaining oblivious. But for how long? Inside, Katie was talking to someone, her words diced in  between choked sobs. He didn’t need to make out her words to know what she was crying about.

Damn.


End file.
